


Chapter 2: An All Too Familiar Feeling

by Zillidan



Series: Jen's Legion Story [2]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Combat, Dalaran, Gen, Prejudice, Stormwind, Teleporting Dalaran even
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-29 21:36:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12093924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zillidan/pseuds/Zillidan
Summary: After the events on the Broken Shore, Jen has to deal with the teleporting of Dalaran to the Broken Isles as well as the prejudices and stigma she continues to face being a Man'ari.





	Chapter 2: An All Too Familiar Feeling

Weeks had gone by since the attack on the Broken Shore. News of King Varian Wrynn’s death quickly reached the Alliance, as well as the losses from the Broken Shore. The whole Alliances was once again mobilized. Following the attack, a demonic incursion was culled, many people enlisted to fight, and the rest were left contributing in whatever way they could possible. Of course, the Tomb of Sargeras itself was something that could not be ignored and while demonic invasions were popping up all over the continents, it was clear that unless the portal was shut down, it was only a matter of time. The Archmage Khadgar, new leader of the Kirin Tor, put together a desperate plan to teleport the kingdom of Dalaran directly to the Broken Isles to act as a staging point for war, as it had during the Lich King campaign. For her bravery at the Broken Shore, as well as veteran status, Jen was selected among a group of daring adventurers to assist with protecting the Kirin Tor as they wove their spells to transport the city.  
However, despite her redemption and sacrifices at the Broken Shore, Jen’ reputation was no better than it was before. Every movement through the street invited glares from passerby’s, parents holding children back, as well as verbal assaults thrown in her direction. Despite having gotten used to it, the feeling of guilt and dread never left her. She was very much happy once she reached the gates of Stormwind, it was a bit of a journey to reach Deadwind Pass, the current site of the Kingdom of Dalaran. It was a cool, summer day, the summer just reaching its end and fall creeping in. Armed in her usual attire, armour that covered vital parts yet keeping her free enough to fight, fel blade strapped to her back, as well as her satchel complete with any essentials she thought she would need, figuring the journey would keep her from home for awhile. The way to Deadwind Pass was well marked, but of course littered with signs talking about various dangers one may encounter there, despite a lot of it being dealt with a long time ago. It wouldn’t be too long before she entered the chilling, grey, mountainous zone and saw the city floating above. She made her way to the base of Karazhan to meet with her contact that would gain her access to the city.  
“Hi, im Jen. Im here to get passage up t-“  
Her voice was promptly cut off by the mage, the well aged human in his purple Kirin Tor garb lifting the brow of his hat up as he gazed up to the large Eredar.  
“Yes, I know which one you are. You are the last one to arrive, hurry it up.”  
He gestured to the portal created behind him, being powered by a set of runestones, only the last one still glowing with energy. She could swear she was here on time but she wasn’t in the mood to argue.  
“Thanks…”  
She looked at the old mage, his head once again hidden by the brow of his hat as he once again wildly gestures to the portal, clearly upset at the current situation he was in. Was it her being the lone demon? Was she really just late? This wasn’t what she needed to be thinking about. She quickly moved to the portal and stepped in. The familiar feeling of teleportation washed over her as she felt ever inch of her body being swiftly yanked vertically in a storm of purple lighting before dissipating, having reached the city.  
She blinked as her eyes adjusted, noting she was on Krasus Landing, having spent a lot of time leaving and entering here on charter gryphon flights during her time in Northrend. However, there was no time for pleasantries, as it seems she was in fact late. Demons covered the city of mages, all hands on deck for the current gamble being attempted. If Dalaran couldn’t make it to the Broken Isles to supplement the Horde and Alliance forces, than it would be another Broken Shore and she was not prepared to see that kind of death again. She was supposed to find a group of people like her and discuss a plan, but there was no time for that at the moment. With a hungry smirk only a being built for war could muster, she reached back and drew her sword, holding it steady as she surveyed her surroundings. She wouldn’t have that much of a chance though, as she could hear the soft patting of something moving towards her, and fast. She quickly turned around to see a fel hunter, fel slobber oozing out of its gaping jaw, sprinting towards her. She took a step back as she empowered her sword with fel energy, runes glowing, before taking a swing. The fel hunter leaped right into the strike, the blade singeing its skin and cutting it cleanly in two, the fel blood spraying and hissing as it made contact.  
She turned and moved past the demons, not able to stop and kill them all. She quickly moved into the corridor and down the stairs, making a dash to where Khadgar and the other mages were supposed to be. In her haste, she didn’t notice the butt end of a sword coming toward her from around the corner, hitting her clean in the jaw. The blow took her off of her feet, sending her head smashing into the smooth stone walls, bad throbbing all over, mouth bleeding. Turning over in time, she saw a sword coming to finish her off, but was able to get her sword in the way to weakly deflect it. The demon now identified to her as a Fel Guard, sneered as it stepped on her wrist, knowing the sword from her grip.  
“Die Fel Draenei.”  
The words dripped from its disgusting mouth as he raised his sword high, leaving Jen to only watch. Suddenly, a burst of flame struck him in the face, causing him to drop his sword and scowl in pain. She awatched as the flames burned the skin off of half his face before mustering enough strength to manifest the sickly emerald fel flames in her hand, scorching his chest, watching him collapse.  
“Hurry up demon”  
Jen glanced over as she got to her feet, noting a smaller figure. She was an Elf, Blood Elf from the eye colour. She wore a combination of cloth clothes and armour, also wearing a Kirin Tor tabard. She scowled at the Elf, getting to her feet and retrieving her blade.  
“This demon has a name you know”  
“Yeah, but I prefer to call you what you are”  
She stared at her for far too long than she had to before shaking her head. The nerve of some people, insulting those they barely know.  
“Are you part of the group? What are we supposed to do here?”  
She laughed, conjuring up a smaller fireball and shooting it into the sky. Jen cocked her head and watched the flame lick the leathery hide of a fel bats wing, the beast losing its flight and hurdling into the stone of a tower, neck breaking instantly.  
“Are you crazy? Do you really need to ask what has to be done demon?”  
She sighed, gripping her sword tight as she stared the Elf down. Don’t do this Jen, you are better than them. She instead nodded.  
“Fine, ill spread out then”  
“Just keep them out of the centre, the spell is nearing completion.”  
With that, the Elf bounced away, firing flames in all directions. Jen watched her leave, shaking her head once more. She can call me a demon all she wants, doesn’t change what I’m about to do. She moved about the city, looking for more prey to kill. She met more and more adventurers, each one greeting her with the same “nickname” as before. The more she fought and listened to them, the more her fury grew. Adept sword fighting turned to brutal slaying. Small burst of controlled magic turned to powerful spellcasts that threatened both friend and foe alike. The jeers and name calling changed into avoidance as the Man’ari went on a rampage. Soon enough, the demonic presence was thinning out and the spell neared completion. With one final surge from the council, Dalaran was transported to its new location.   
Once the city appeared, there was a calm in the air for a minute, as the rest of the demonic forces were cleaned up. Jen finally had a chance to breath and looked around, noting everyone looking at her. She panted, staring around before glancing at the fountain. She saw raw fel blazing in her eyes, her skin bubbly, threatening to crack. Where did all this raw energy come from? She had been cut off from the Legion a long time ago. She slowly sheathed her blade and moved on, with no one saying a word to her. She turned to leave when someone piped up.   
“You should be careful where you swing demon, lest you catch one of us in your fel wrath”  
She didn’t even turn to meet his gaze; she already knew it was true. She needed to go on her way and get out of the city; her real mission was finding her friend. However, something caught her attention on the way out. On the ground next to where they had met lay the body of an Elf, but not any Elf. She knelt down and gently turned the body over, revealing what she already knew. However, what she didn’t know was what happened. She gently lifted her tunic and revealed the ugly truth she knew. A Fel cauterized wound, the same wound her blade makes, gashed across her torso. She immediately panicked, knowing the blade mark wold be easily recognizable by a mage spell, for their later documentation. She quickly grabbed a nearby Fell hunter, broke it tooth, ad cut more holes, ravaging the corpse to near unidentifiable. She stood up, arms, hands, and face covered in blood. Shaking, she threw the tooth up on a roof and ran. She had to get cleaned up and fast…


End file.
